Black Lilies
by kannuki
Summary: Every household has its own kind of domesticity. / Focus on Merryweather, Riff/Cain


...::Black Lilies

.

The doll's eyes were made of glass but she could _see_.

A girl was standing in the corridor, lace and silk outlined faintly in the dark, holding her breath as she looked at the doll. She could find no strength at all to move, even though she wanted to escape right that instant. Something shifted in the air and everything was slightly off its axis, yet still spinning, spinning very fast. The girl could not breathe accordingly and her chest heaved.

The doll had always seen more than she had.

.

Merryweather was looking at her brother and Riff as they were talking about something, her eyes half-lidded. They didn't seem to be discussing anything serious or unpleasant since both of them seemed rather light-hearted. Of course, no one else would tell but her. In others' eyes, Riff was perhaps as stiff and proper as ever and Earl Hargreaves as arrogant and bored. But Riff's face was so very soft and it wasn't the angle or the light. Merryweather tried to see past his exterior but that man had always been a walking secret, no matter how single-minded he appeared. There was gossip scattered about and a few observant older ladies were wondering: didn't the Hargreaves' steward have a suspiciously strong position in the household? Wasn't he a sneaky and intelligent man who knew how to fool everyone to get money? But among her brother's affairs of heartbreak and poisons, Riff wasn't a popular topic and no scandal was likely to ever take place. Merryweather didn't understand everything they shared but she was not curious.  
Not really.

.

Merryweather had heard stories about wandering after dark but she was not easily scared. She'd had her own share of adventures that most prim young ladies wouldn't even dream about and besides, there was absolutely no reason to feel afraid at one's own home. She just suddenly felt like having a walk and, in the middle of that, she felt an urge to check if the ridiculous doll was still sitting on top of the slim chest of drawers, the ugly expression forever carved on her face. Merryweather was up to the challenge and she wouldn't be shaken by that toy again.

Those glass eyeballs really were an exceptional piece of work.

Her head tilted at an odd angle, the doll was staring in a peculiar direction. Looking up, Merryweather almost screamed. It was her own face in the framed mirror behind the doll's head and she felt embarrassingly childish. She turned on her heel to leave but the image of what she had seen in her face trailed behind her like old ghosts (_new_demons).

.

Merryweather sipped tea in the garden and observed a gardener work in a faraway corner. Everything looked very different at daytime, she mused. Even that garden could appear terrifying during stormy nights and right now it was such a peaceful place, straight out of a fairytale. She saw her brother walk to her table and she smiled, with only a bit of forced cheerfulness.  
She couldn't really ask about what she wanted to, so she settled for the usual banters, sweet talks and familiarity. Time went by pleasantly and the gardener brought her some flowers. Cain's eyes followed his moves and he smiled a small, private smile. The doll's eyes flashed in Merryweather's mind like an array of rough sketches and her breath hitched. Forcing her thoughts back to the daylight, the sun's shining and trees, she smiled at him just to cover her uneasiness.  
She pretended not to notice that Riff's hand lingered on her brother's arm longer than necessary when he came to call them inside.

.

Merryweather's feelings toward the doll changed. She felt some kind of a bond between them. She was a human, and yet she was like that toy, in that very spot - always looking but never seeing.  
There was a vase of lilies across from were the doll was sitting, on a small table. They were fresh and striking in the darkness and the girl's nose twitched slightly when she inhaled their aroma.  
The doll's eyes on her, the lilies' smell, the touch of the doll's silky hair and the taste of her own fear on the tip of her tongue. In a small prayer she wished that the five senses could stop being five.

In the dark, some things become unclear and others clear.

.

Merryweather was bored, as always when she was left behind. Her brother and Riff set out on some sort of a trip and insisted that it was too dangerous for her. She opposed but the outcome had been decided from the very start. Their silhouettes disappeared in the carriage, one never separated from the other. She thought she saw their fingers touch each other just before the curtain managed to cover them but that was probably just the angle. After all, what could have been seen from a particular point of view could be completely obscured from another one and so, no one would know. No one.

She retreated to her room, rested in a comfortable armchair and tried to read a book but gave all of that up. Her steps echoed against the walls as she steadily made her way down the corridor.

A maid was putting fresh lilies in the vase and started chattering about them being Master Cain's new fancy and that she could easily understand because really, such pretty flowers they were! Everyone would love to see them first thing in the morning. The maid straightened up the doll and after asking if the young lady needed anything, disappeared. Merryweather reached out unconsciously to move the doll's head back. Now she was again staring off into the space. As an afterthought, the girl angled the porcelain face so that the toy was glaring straight at the lilies. She took a few steps back to admire her work.

Lilies, and the doll with legs covered with layers and layers of silk, and between them the mahogany door. Merryweather looked around and quickly walked up to that door, pressing her face against the wood. No one was there at the moment so it was quiet. Cain's room was now vacant and peaceful and she felt her heart beating fast.

She twisted her neck to stare in the doll's eyes.

'It doesn't matter what you can see, does it?'

She tiptoed and there she was, taking the doll in her hands and shaking her delicately, as if for good measure. She reached between brown locks and touched a small porcelain ear.

'It's fine as long as you are deaf. Both you and me - let's forget that we can even hear, shall we?'

Upon returning the toy to its original place, she took one last look at that setting - the lilies, the door, the doll - and smiled hesitantly. It was all unfamiliar and she couldn't tell where it would take her. But even if it triggered a change in her heart, it was all right - for them.

'Every household has its own kind of domesticity' she whispered by way of explanation and the walls seemed to suck her words in. They would remain reliable guardians of everything that had been happening inside and no one would hear how at night a girl stood outside her brother's room, listening to his steward and him make love, their voices just barely audible and flowing outside like a new kind of poison.


End file.
